Benediction of Time
by WinterD
Summary: There's a war on...and we're losing. PostDoomsday.


Title: Benediction of Time

Author: Winterd

Rated: R

Disclaimer: I own nothing. The BBC, RTD, and others own all. Point is, they're not mine in any way, shape, or form.

Spoilers: Through Doomsday

Summary: _There's a war on...and we're losing._

AN: Okay, I'm still rather new to Who-fiction, but we'll see how this one turns out. I do realize that this is going to be far off of cannon, but that's why I decided to do this first because it is an alternate universe, therefore I can get 'facts' wrong and it still be right. Thank you...well, what is this verse called? Pete-verse? Hmm, doesn't quite fit. P-verse? Ideal (mostly, anyway) Tyler-verse? Ooo, Family-verse. Uh...yeah, just ignore me here. cough

Anyway, I'll get on with the story. Hope someone enjoys it.

And a special thank you to my beta reader, Charlotte

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**Chapter One: In The Afterlife**

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_They reach for their moment_

_And try to make an honest stand_

_But they wind up wounded _

_Not even dead_

_Tonight in Jungle Land_

- Bruce Springsteen

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_Domestic - relating to a home or family affairs or relations. Fond of family life and running a home._

With a tight smile, Rose just kept herself from snorting as she reread the line again.

Domestic. Such an ugly word. It a word that's supposed to be used by people who settle for boring everyday jobs and live boring everyday lives that revolve around remembering to buy a new carton of milk at the market and what the new football schedule was going to be. It was like he said once, 'You get up, go to work, eat chips, watch the telly, and go to bed. Day in, day out. Until you die.' Well, maybe that wasn't exactly what he had said, but close enough. It made the point. Domesticity was a self appointed life-sentence that humans gave themselves whenever they decided it was time to join the 'grown-up' world and settle. And it was a long, drawn-out death sentence at that.

Rose wondered sometimes how he'd feel if he could see her now. Now that she was 'domestic'. Well, in a way, anyway.

She has a job. A good job. She was working at Torchwood, just like she had told him, in the Intelligence Offices. Most people might would call it an exciting job in an exciting field. Rose wouldn't.

Most days, she felt like a glorified paper-pusher, scanning over endless gathered information from both the files and the archives to see if she recognized an alien threat and the best way to deal with it.

Rose would have preferred to be out there with Mickey and Jake, working in the field and having adventures. The danger didn't matter to her. She'd welcome it. Craved it, actually. Adrenaline junkie is what Mickey had once jokingly called it. But she wasn't allowed on field missions. After all, she was the well-known Pete Tyler's daughter. How exactly was she supposed to go sneaking about covertly when pictures of her family popped up in the supermarket tabloids and on the evening news? Especially now that her father had gone and jumped into politics. No, field-work was not an option for her and not even Pete's clout could change that.

She was a high ranking member of Torchwood, though. She knew about aliens, or more so than nearly everyone else in the organization. So, she was important and liked to think that she did make a difference.

Besides, being so high up helped her keep an eye on things. Helped her make sure that this Torchwood here never turned out like the Torchwood from her Earth.

She doesn't go out much, not really. Only the occasional evening when the walls of her home become to flat and white and she realizes the only people she has talked to outside of work is her family, Mickey, Jake, or Jack the Tomcat that lives on her street and that she feeds. It's only then that she'll take up Hannah from work's offer to go a pub - which they call Tipsters here - for some drinks with the girls. Or she takes up Danny from Accounting's offer to see a movie. Or Roger from two doors down's invitation to dinner. It was why she agreed to go with Paul to go see that football game back when.

She has friend, too, aside from Mickey and Jake, but not many. It's hard finding friends who don't and can't know what she does for a living. It's even harder finding friends when she sometimes doesn't know if they just want to be her friend because of who her father is. It's hardest finding friends who won't ask about her past or question why she sometimes get a far away look in her eyes when they mention going to see a doctor or why she makes a yearly pilgrimage to Norway. But she does have friends. Not many, but some.

All in all, Rose liked to think that she had a nice life. Domestic and boring, yes, but nice.

Or, at least, she was doing a damn good impression of someone who had a life.

Rose put her tea down and closed her eyes. How had she even gotten off track and thinking about this? Today wasn't an anniversary. It wasn't her mum's birthday, so there wouldn't be the moment of silence to remember those who had died that night. It wasn't the day she was pulled into this world and locked out of her own. It wasn't even the same day as when she'd gone up to Bad Wolf Bay.

So there had been no real reason for these sort of thoughts to come sneaking up on her. But they had, thanks to that word...domestic.

Next time, she wasn't checking over Emma's schoolwork.

Closing the notebook, Rose stood from her kitchen table and picked up the kettle off the stove. Not for the first time she wished she could somehow find the tea he used to keep in the TARDIS' kitchen. Course, she couldn't even remember the name of the brand anymore. Besides, she was pretty sure that it was alien anyway.

"G'morning." A chipper voice pulled Rose from her thoughts.

Her nine-year-old baby sister Emma bounced happily into the kitchen. She was already dressed in her school uniform and had pulled her gold, strawberry tinged hair into two sloppy plaits. Rose wondered if she would have time to redo them before she dropped her off at school. Once glance at the clock told her no.

Emma was Pete's child, more so than her mum's. Ambitious and clever, at nine Emma already knew more about the world of politics and business than Rose did and had no problem letting others know how bright she thought she was. Yes, she knew things, but didn't necessarily understand, no matter what Emma thought. It was one thing to understand facts, it was quite another to live and apply them. Rose had learned that long ago. Emma was idealist and came from a family with enough money to keep her that way, so Rose wasn't sure if she would ever really understand.

Dropping her packed school bag next to the door, Emma practically skipped to the table.

Rose had never been much of a morning person herself. Jack used to tease her saying that she could scare away the Holy Armies of Tettron if they ever had the misfortune of running across her before she had her morning cup of coffee - which Jack always had waiting for her because he would have been up for two hours already and knew she hated coffee. It was the fastest way to way up that he knew of - unless she was up for his 'very special' wake up call, of course - and the Doctor needed her to be -

No. That was enough of those thoughts.

"Good morning," Rose said, grabbing the milk out of her refrigerator as Emma sat down. She took one of the pieces of toast and began to spread a fairly large helping of marmalade on it, while Rose poured her milk. "Hurry up and eat. We're going to be leaving soon."

As Emma did as she was told, Rose glanced towards the doorway she had come through.

"Where's your brother?" she asked. "Jim!"

"Wot?" Jim asked, sleepily shuffling into the kitchen.

Unlike his peppy sister, Jim looked disheveled and half dead on his feet. His hair wasn't combed and he had yet to bother to tuck in his shirt or tie his tie. His school bag - which was likely unpacked - was nowhere in sight. Upon sitting down, he immediately laid his head down onto the table and closed his eyes.

Jim was more like Jackie and Rose. Creeky and brash, he had all but made stubbornness into an art form. Rose could already see her teenage self in him. Jim would have to make his own mistakes to understand, and would do so with a smile. But, at the same time, he would make sure that Emma was protected. She would learn from him and he would keep her safe. He was older than her by a whole fifteen minutes, after all, which might as well been fifteen years by his attitude.

He was the same way in his attitude towards Rose as well, which was both adorable and annoying. Some days, when she managed to think of the past and the pain only felt like a dull throb, Rose entertained herself with thoughts of a meeting between Jackie, Jim, and the Doctor. The Doctor thought being slapped by her mother was bad, but he should try getting slapped and then poked in the chest by a ten-year-old hell bent on defending his sister like Paul did.

Emma and Jim had stayed with Rose last night because their parents had thrown a fundraiser at the mansion. Elections were coming up and it was important to get Pete's face out there if he wanted to win that spot in the House. It was also important that he be seen with his family as often as possible, which meant she had to put in appearance last night.

Rose hated those parties. It probably came from having to work them when she was a teenager and this reality's Jackie's disastrous birthday party. Still, Rose went and smiled and posed for pictures like she was supposed too. But as soon as the clock struck ten, she latched onto the excuse that the twins were staying with her that evening and made a hasty retreat with her siblings in tow.

Her parents knew why she always volunteered to take Emma and Jim, but never said anything. A night off from them was a night off.

"Wake up, Jim," Rose said, ruffling his dirty blond hair. "Hurry up and grab something. The car's going to be here soon."

Jim made some unintelligible sound and then blindly felt around the table for the toast while keeping his head firmly rested against the table. Emma rolled her eyes and batted his hand away when it got to close to her plate. Grabbing his shoulder, Rose forced him to sit up before she shoved a piece of toast at him.

"Eat," she said.

Jim, of course, glared at her, but did as he was told and began to nibble on the dry toast. Emma smirked and licked the excess marmalade off her fingers. Neither of the twins noticed the sad smile that passed over Rose's face.

"Stop it, Emma," Rose said.

"Yeah, Emma," Jim echoed.

She stuck her tongue out at him. Jim made faces at her in return.

Little monsters, they were.

Rose was saved from having to deal with them when her mobile rang. It was her secretary, Susan, reminding her of her nine o'clock meeting with the Board to discuss the latest discovery in the Republic of Texas. Rose had gone over the reports for the past week, but so far had seen nothing that suggested that Torchwood needed to get any more involved than with the usual collection of artifacts. They would have to smooth that over with the Republic - Texas wasn't a country that was known to just hand over something just because someone asked for it - but they had dealt with their Prime Minister before and it shouldn't be that much of a problem.

During the middle of her conversation, the car Pete had arranged to drive Rose arrived sending the kitchen into a brief moment of chaos. As Rose poured the last of her tea down the drain, Emma slipped her notebook into her school bag while Jim went scrabbling through the living room to gather all his books and notepads and shove them into his recently found bag.

"You'll have the reports waiting on my desk?" Rose asked, balancing the phone on her shoulder as she grabbed her purse, keys, and briefcase. Then, after switching off the lights, she made a sweeping motion with her arms towards the front door, pushing the twins out.

Rose nodded, though she knew Susan couldn't see her, and said, "Good. I'll be there in about twenty minutes, all right."

Clicking off her mobile, Rose dropped it in her purse before locking her front door and turning to follow Jim and Emma.

Tom, her driver, stood stiff-back beside the opened back passenger side door. The kids, who had grown up with servants, hardly noticed him, though Rose heard Emma say a brief 'thank you' to him. Jim, however, was to busy trying to hold onto the books that hadn't quite made it into his school bag just yet and trying to get into the car without dropping them.

"Good morning, Tom," Rose said.

He nodded lightly. "Good morning, ma'am."

She tried not to grimace, she really did, but even after all these years she still couldn't get used to having the 'servants' call her that. It all reminded her too much of Gwyneth and how unfair she thought Mr. Sneed had treated her.

"We need to drop Jim and Emma first and get me back to the office by nine. Can you make that?" she asked, slipping into the backseat.

"Of course, ma'am," Tom said shutting the door.

The twins were already arguing with one another for more space on the backseat by the time Tom pulled away from the curve and down the nearly deserted street. Not a lot of people lived in Rose's neighborhood. Mostly, the terraces were used only during the week by businessmen and women working in the city but living in the country. Rose was actually one of the few people who was an actual permanent resident, and she didn't mind the quiet the weekends. Especially after she had to take care of her brother and sister.

As they drove down the street and Rose tried her best to ignore her siblings, something strange caught her attention. Right on the corner of her street, there was an old fashioned white telephone booth. Rose had seen a few in the older parts of London, but couldn't ever remember seeing on her street corner before.

A small part of her jumped at the unusual site, her mind automatically going to a place it shouldn't when she noticed something odd, but Rose quickly stopped that line of thought. The city probably just put it up for show recently - retro was rather big now since people were still wary of technology since the Cybermen incident - and she had just not noticed it before. No reason to get worked up. It wasn't a blue police box.

Sighing, Rose leaned her head against the headrest. Why did she keep thinking about him today? It had been ten years now. She'd had her time to grieve and her time of acceptance. She'd moved on the best she could. She'd made a life. She'd even had someone who loved her for awhile.

So why didn't she think of Paul and loss instead of him? Paul was still here and Rose was certain that she could have him back if she really wanted. He had said as much when they left the courthouse. But it wasn't Paul that haunted her and that was exactly why they never worked.

And today, for whatever reason, the Doctor was closer than she had felt him in years.

Emma pressed close against the window and looked up at the gray sky that growing darker. Some large raindrops had already fallen against the car windshield and Tom had turned on the windshield wipers.

"Storms coming," Emma said.

Rose smiled wearily at her. _I wish._

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If Mickey had to make a comparison, he would say that working in Torchwood was a bit like being school again. There were clicks and groups, and everyone tried to stick to their own. Research and Development stayed on their floor - if someone needed something from them they would have to go to the labs because the scientists were not coming out. Field Agents, such as himself, were usually - well, in the field, but they mostly kept to their offices on the tenth floor when they were in. And people in the Intelligence Offices - people like Rose - stuck strictly to their top floor, making all the 'decision' and dealing with the politics and the such. There were other levels and offices, of course, but Mickey hardly dealt with them and sometimes even forgot that they were there.

Mickey leaned back in Rose's chair and put his feet up on her desk, careful not to knock off the jade tiger that would pay his rent for a year. Rose was using it as a paperweight.

Rose hated Intel. Mickey knew the minute she announced that she had been assigned there that she would be miserable. It wasn't who she was; sitting in an office somewhere while other went out and had - as she called it - all the fun. She had traveled with the Doctor for far too long to think that delegating would ever be exciting.

Jackie had been happy about the assignment. Pete too, if he was honest. Rose being in Intel meant she was home and safe. That was all Jackie had ever wanted, really. She wanted her to be happy too, but the two seemed to be mutually exclusive. It hadn't always been like that, but since...Well, it was now. And he cursed the Doctor everyday for it.

The door clicked as it opened and Mickey dropped his feet. Rose would kill him if she - "Oh, Mr. Smith."

Mickey smiled. "Susan, hey."

Susan Wilde was new to Torchwood, only having worked with the organization for about two months or so before being assigned to Rose. Generally, it would take years working up the ladder of the secretarial pool to receive a position in Intel, but Susan had gotten lucky when Rose's old secretary had a rich uncle died and left her his fortune. It was odd, really, since she claimed that she didn't know she had an uncle, but it checked out. Susan was only supposed to be a temporary replacement but, four months on, she was still her which was good in Mickey's opinion. Very good.

"How've you been?" Mickey asked.

"All right, I suppose." Susan shifted uncomfortably on her feet and adjusted her grip on some files. "Ms. Tyler is in a meeting and I'm not sure when she'll be finished."

"It's all right. I can wait," he said.

If it had been anyone but him, Mickey was sure Susan would have tossed 'em out. This was Rose's private office and there was no telling what she left lying about for anyone to find and read. Rose never was very good at keeping her things in order. Though, if he moved something - put it away into it rightful space - Rose would snap at him for messing with her 'filing system'.

Susan knew that it didn't matter what Mickey saw or read. He'd already know. One of the benefits of being Rose Tyler's best friend.

Susan nodded and then continued with her task.

Walking behind the desk, she made Mickey to move over a bit. She then lifted the jade tiger off the files he had been careful not to knock over and took several from the top. From the look of them, he would say that they were related to the recent number of unexplained deaths that had occurred around the world. Supposedly random people were suddenly killed by what appeared to be lightning. That was the official finding, anyway. Unofficially in Torchwood, what was actually killing those people had Mickey worried. That, and the fact that the people being killed weren't random people at all. Those were two of the reasons why he had come straight here to talk with Rose. Another reason, well, he supposed it could be associated with them too.

"Rose seen those yet?" he asked as Susan gathered the last of the files.

"I don't know, sir, but Mr. Thomas asked for them right away," Susan said. Seemingly knowing what he was about to ask, she added, "Not quite sure what he wants with them, but I just work here."

Mickey frowned. "Thomas? Thought his bit was with the politics and such. What could he want with them?"

Now rather annoyed, Susan shrugged. "Like I said, I haven't the foggiest. Just that he does."

Well, that was a new tidbit for him. Susan didn't like repeating herself. He'll have to remember that.

"Susan? Susan you in there? I need you to - Mickey!"

A large grin spread across Rose's face when she walked into her office and saw him sitting behind her desk. Mickey thought it was a genuine smile, even if it didn't reach every part of her eyes.

He barely had time to stand before she had crossed the office in three quick steps and had her arms around him.

"When'd you get in?" she asked, before finally letting go of him.

"Few hours ago," he said. "Me and Jake just finished our debriefing and I thought I'd drop in on you before I headed out."

"You mean you knew to let me know you were back before heading home," she said, her tongue slightly peeking out of the corner of her mouth to accent her knowing look.

He shifted in his feet and gave a playful shrug. "Yeah, well, rather not be getting phone calls from you when I'm trying to sleep yelling at me for not letting you know, so, yeah."

She hit him in the chest with the back of her hand and laughed. "Shut it," she said.

A throat clearing reminded them that Susan was still there with them.

"Oh, right," Rose said. "Susan, could you call Tom and let him know I'll be working late again. I also need the Mossberg and Deddle files. And where are you going with those?"

"Thomas wants them," Mickey answered for her.

"Thomas? For what?"

He shrugged. "Don't know."

"He didn't say, ma'am," Susan said. "Do you want me to find out?"

Rose thought for a moment and then shook her head. "That's all right. I'll ask him when I see him tomorrow about the Colburn case." She glanced over to Mickey. "We think an alien ship has crashed in Victoria, Texas."

For a second, Mickey swore that Susan went rigid. But it happened so fast that he couldn't say for sure that she had. And, if she had noticed, Rose didn't say.

Susan asked, "Would you and Mr. Smith like some tea?"

"Yes, thank you," Rose said, sitting down in her chair.

Mickey was envious of that chair. His desk chair wasn't as comfortable as her or as swively.

Nodding, Susan quickly left.

"So," Rose said, making herself comfortable, "how was Uruguay? Did you and Jake run into any trouble?"

"Oh, you know, about the same as always," he said. Drawing in a deep breath, Mickey pressed his lips. "Rose, you know why we were in Uruguay, right?"

"Course," she said. "Had to do with that scientist being killed by 'lightning', yeah?"

Mickey nodded. "You know it's not lightning."

"Don't be thick. Course I know its not," she said, her tone flat and soft but not berating.

A pregnant pause passed. She knew what he was going to say next, but it didn't make it any easier for him to say.

Drawing in a deep breath, Mickey let it out slowly and then said, "He was one of ours. Just like the others."

Rose exhaled slowly and Mickey briefly wondered if she had been holding her breath. "You sure?"

He nodded. "Records confirmed it. He was one of the ones to crossover."

_From the other universe_, he didn't say. One of the people to visit it before the Void closed. Before this became their permanent new world.

There had only been so many from this Torchwood that had managed to make it across and see her and Mickey's home universe. Some went to help in the War; others went for simple curiosity. There had even been a janitor who had accidentally gone through; dusted the wrong thing at the wrong time, Mickey supposed. And now someone with more advanced weapons - that were eerily familiar somehow - than Torchwood had, was killing them off.

So far, there had only been four, and they had all been old members who had settled on the other side of the Atlantic, but it was only a matter of time before they came here. The last two had been in different countries and continents - one in Canada and the other Uruguay. So what protection did an ocean really give them?

"We need to warn your mum and dad. They could be next." Mickey paused again. "Or you."

"Or you," Rose countered a bit harshly. Catching herself, she closed her eyes for a moment and then said, "Or Jake. Could be any of us, really. But we can't let it go changing our lives."

"Still, might be better if you go stay with your mum and dad for awhile." The hard glare he got for the suggestion wasn't surprising.

"What? So whoever it is can find all of us at once? Not to mention the twins and whoever else might be there." She shook her head. "I'm not any safer there than I'm at home."

He wanted to point out the security around her parents' home. He wanted to tell her that 'yes' she actually might be safer than in her home. But Mickey knew Rose. Her mind was made up and there was nothing he could say that make her change it.

"There's something else you should see," Mickey said.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his mobile and flipped through the pictures he had stored on it. As he scrolled through them, he said, "This was painted on the side of his building. Some local artist mural or something."

Finding the photo, he handed his phone over to her.

The mural was an impressive painting, covering the entire side of a three story building. The painting detailed the oppressive feeling that the people of Uruguay had experienced during the height of the dictatorship of Emilio Lopez during the late nineties. In the mural, a woman coward in fear with her child in her arms while a peasant man rose up armed only with a gardening hoe to defender her against a light colored wolf with yellow eyes. The dull yellow paint of the building had bled through the nearly white color of the wolf's fur, making it appear almost blonde.

"Scroll to the next picture. It's the title," he said. "I asked someone why he made it feminine if it's about Lopez, but they said they didn't know."

She did so and froze. "La Loba Malo," Rose said quietly.

Mickey nodded. "The Bad Wolf."

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**tbc**


End file.
